


Mess

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-16
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:59:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1472422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Droog loathes messes, yet he keeps turning Crowbar into one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwistaLolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistaLolita/gifts).



> Thank you to [stunrunner](http://stunrunner.tumblr.com) for editing.

You've lost track of how many times you've met him in this dank basement near his crew’s hideout, just like you've lost track of how many teeth you've forfeited to him, how many cuts you've endured from him, how many bruises have spotted your skin thanks to him. To his credit, Stitch never asks where the injuries have come from, but always repairs you, leaving you as good as new. You know that by now he must know there's something else going on besides official gang business, that at the very least you must go looking for trouble of some sort. Yet every time you show up back at the mansion in serious need of getting put back together, he never gives you more than the occasional eyebrow raise. Usually it's just a shrug. You don't know if he knows exactly what, or with whom, but he probably suspects. Accordingly, you avoid doing anything that might piss him off, since the last thing you want is one of your own crew blackmailing you. You already have enough of that threat with your sadistic lover - though at least with him it's mutual.

There’s no doubt that Slick would try to kill Droog if he found out about your arrangement. You have no doubt that Droog could kill Slick in cold blood if his boss ever seriously threatened his life, but it would be _messy_ and Droog loathes unnecessary messes.

Unfortunately, said loathing also means that when he accuses you of being a mess, you know you two are done for the night.

Still, you can’t help but ask, "And whose fault is that?" steeling yourself for the inevitable backhand, which Droog delivers gladly. It’s true; the mess isn’t your fault. You haven't cried nor is your nose running. It’s all just blood and sweat, the former of which Droog has been so eagerly drawing up from your exposed skin. He’s spent the better part of the past hour tracing the lines of your collarbones and ribs with the tip of a dagger, being sure to just barely draw blood with each stroke. When you glance down, your cheek burning from the slap, you can see the elegance is now entirely lost under the dozens of trickles of blood, most dried and the rest lazily oozing, like sap on a tree.

"Do you think Stitch can sew you a new tongue?" he asks lazily, flipping the dagger between his fingers. When you make no reply - because you don't know the answer and Droog is just crazy enough to follow through - he makes a demeaning, beckoning motion with one finger. You pull yourself to your feet, trying not to shake. Your knees ache and you feel light-headed from blood loss, but you don't want it to show.

Even standing at your tallest, you're a head shorter than him. He only leans down a fraction of an inch, burying his hand in your hair and pulling you up to meet him. You get on your tiptoes, struggling to keep your balance as your head spins from desire and pain and blood loss, needing his lips like a drowning man needs to break to the surface and just _breathe_.

But really, breathing is the opposite of what you do when you kiss him, as you forget how to inhale, how to _think_. He consumes you with his touch, and releases you far too soon.

“I’m not fond of messes. Get out before I start to consider the matter of your tongue with more than just idle curiosity.”

You stomach clenches in a sick, disappointed way, like it always does when you’re dismissed, but you go. The real question is why you keep coming back to him.


End file.
